


In Any Verse

by TrishaCollins



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Also everyone has been aged up a bit, BAD MEDICAL SHIT, F/M, Firefly is weird y'all., Gen, Haxus is not fluffy, I just want everyone to picture Krolia in Mal's outfit, It's a problem., Keith and Shiro touch too much., M/M, No magical lions., Pidge is the youngest, Sendak is not fluffy, The Alliance is everything bad, Two by two alteans are weird., What do you mean Shiro isn't good for action girl in a box?, she's like 18.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-04-25 05:59:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14372400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrishaCollins/pseuds/TrishaCollins
Summary: Firefly AU with the usual suspects.The verse has more problems than there are people to solve it. Pidge just wants her brother back, Keith is looking for answers, and Lance is just trying to make a living in a big old verse.





	1. Chapter 1

Shiro woke without entirely remembering falling asleep, and took a moment to orient himself. The hospital room was dim, but the lights were slowly increasing as the censors recognized that he was wake. 

He tightened his hand – his remaining hand – around the fingers intertwined with it, peering down at the dark head resting on his bedside. 

Keith stirred, giving him a sleepy smile. “Hey, hero.” 

“Don’t you start.” He made a face. “Sorry I fell asleep on you again.”

Keith brought his hand up, kissing his wrist gently. “Hey. No need for that.” The serious face remained for half a second before it cracked. “Saving a thousand people takes a lot out of a person.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m going to send you to find me real coffee.”

Keith stuck his tongue out. “You’re not allowed to have anything but hospital foods until the doctor clears you, Commander Shirogane.” 

“Fine, fine, Captain Kogane.” 

Keith gave his hand a squeeze. “How do you feel?”

“Tired. But apparently losing an arm takes a lot out of you.” 

Keith snorted. “Well, your sense of humor is intact.” 

“About the only thing that doesn’t feel bruised.” He slid his thumb over the back of Keith’s hand. “Any cute nurses come through while I was out?”

Keith responded with a small eye roll. “Yeah, I got his number, figure we’ll hit him up for a threesome later. Sure he’ll be thrilled.”

He huffed a laugh. “Thanks for staying with me.”

“Leaving never crossed my mind.” Keith settled his elbow on the bed, jiggling their hands. “How are you going to handle retiring?” 

“Maybe I’ll learn to cook. Watch you get promoted through the ranks and have a hot meal on the table every night? Doc said as soon as the wound heals, they’re going to fit me with a prosthetic. Which is good, I am not a lefty.” 

Keith pressed his lips to the back of his hand. “Couple dogs and 2.1 kids crawling around on the carpet? I never took you for a white picket fence man, Commander.” 

“Well, I wasn’t, but then some substandard equipment almost took me out, and I am rethinking terrestrial life.” He gave Keith’s hand a hard squeeze, relaxing into his pillows. 

Keith was quiet, tracing the space between his fingers. He had scared him, almost left him, and Keith…Keith didn’t do well with near misses. It would take some time to repair things, even without the missing arm and loss of his career. 

Keith sighed, and tried to smile when he seemed to realize that he was being observed. 

But Keith was willing to fight for him, and he was willing to fight for him. “You going to leave me in here all by myself?” He nodded to the blanket. 

“You smell like antiseptic.” Keith retorted, but stood up to climb in bed with him.

He didn’t make it, the doors opened roughly and Keith froze. 

Two hospital guards came in, one grabbing Keith by the shoulder and shoving him backwards away from the bed. 

Which was a mistake, and the guard stumbled back either missing an eye or blinded by the blood. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” Keith demanded, moving to position himself between Shiro and the door. 

“Stand down, Captain.” A soft, dangerous voice said from the doorway. “This is alliance business.”

Keith stilled, a rather complicated series of emotions flashing across his face. “Commander Sendak. We-“

“Stand down.” The dark skinned captain walked out of the doorway, towering above Keith. 

“Please.” Keith whispered, voice hitching. 

“I will not tell you a third time.” 

The remaining guard moved forward and grabbed Keith by the shoulders, hauling him back. Keith was frozen, not moving. 

A purple hooded figure drifted forward, stopping at the bottom of his bed and picking up his chart. 

“What’s going on?” Shiro asked, worry filling his voice. 

“Shhh, Commander. We have thought of a way that you can fulfill your contract.”

“No.” Keith’s voice was short, sharp. 

“Tíngzhǐ.” Sendak said, voice lazy.

 

Keith’s eyes slammed shut, and his knees gave out, body doubling over. 

 

“Keith!” He sat up, moving to go for his partner. 

 

“Enough.” The cloaked figure said. “I tire of this, Commander Sendak. Take him, do with the boy what you will. Perhaps he needs more….education.” 

 

“No. Keith hasn’t done anything wrong.” He hadn’t either, but it was Keith he was worried about. 

The cloaked figure offered no response, walking slowly from his room. 

“Muzzle him. We don’t need their moaning.” Sendak snapped his fingers at one of the orderlies. “I will deal with my….cadet.”

“Keith!” He was weak, he had been in bed since the accident, through multiple surgeries as they tried to get all the shrapnel out of his chest. His legs didn’t hold him, and the fall tore the iv out of his arm. 

Two orderlies grabbed him, one lifting a device he could only guess the function of and fitting it quickly and efficiently over his head.

“Ke-“ The mouthpiece slid, securing his tongue, filling his cheeks. He managed one last muffled cry before they rid him the ability to do even that. 

 

That last thing he saw as orderlies pushed him into a chair was Keith at Sendak’s feet, a pulsing energy baton held high in his hand. 

*~*~*~*

Pidge Gunderson was not a very imaginative person. Katie Holt was, but panic had dimmed her senses somewhat. 

When this guy – the one her contact had assured her ¬¬- could help her get her brother out of the petri dish masquerading as a school, she had all but jumped at the chance.

But meeting Keith was like seeing a full realized character out of a fighting game. He didn’t smile, he didn’t laugh, there were lines around his eyes but like hell was the guy that much older than she was. He moved like a soldier, like his bones were old. Which was something her dad would have said, which made the thought hurt more.

When he casually said that there was a tracker in his arm, and he had a contact in Old Town who was going to remove it, she blurted out the offer before she even thought. 

“I can do it.”

Keith stared at her, lips pressed so thin and pale that they might be drawn on. He reminded her of one of Matt’s comic characters. So pale, so skinny, so ready for anything to turn into a fight.

She fiddled with her hair. “I mean. There’s nothing.” She swallowed back the lump. “I can do it. I have the tech. I thought-well, if they’re turning them into lab monkeys.” She trailed off, glad that the tears didn’t well up this time, like they had so often before. 

Comprehension softened into something that she might – might ¬– call sympathy. “If you want.” His voice was a little bit rough.

Her heart was racing in her chest. She knew he had something. Someone on the inside. Or else he wouldn’t be working with her. Why would he? He could get work anywhere, he didn’t need to help some little girl rescue her brother – who by the way had signed up for this – except that was the hysteria talking and she was trying to get better at that.

“Now?” She tried to keep her voice steady.

Keith stared at her, brow furrowed, then nodded and dropped his bag. 

It thunked, like it was heavier than a skinny guy should be able to haul around. 

She got into her own gear bag, which she would not drop on the ground because it was all incredibly delicate and ok most of it was stolen or homemade but it was hers and if nobody else would rescue Matt from his own bad choices, then she would. The medical kit was something she had taken from her mother’s clinic, and she felt the worst about that theft.

But at least if she robbed her mom – who had a husband in jail and a son desperate enough to sign up for a crazy bad offer – then nobody would suggest that Dr. Holt was helping her daughter break into a secure area. 

She told herself that. 

She ran her own homemade scanner over Keith’s arm until she got a reading, and tried to ignore the implications around a guy his age having a tracker. What had he done? Who was he? Where had he come from?

Why Shirogane? 

She hadn’t asked that, and he hadn’t really asked about Matt. 

She ran through a few sequences until the chip went dark. “I have an hour to remove it, there’s a small explosive in it. You could have lost the arm.” She tried for a little bit of levity. 

But he just stared at her, expressionless. “I know.”

She swallowed past the feeling of sickness, got a tool out, filled a syringe with a numbing agent, and got to work.

She knew he couldn’t feel it, but she still kept watching him for any sign that she was hurting him as she worked out the little bundle of tracker and explosive out of his arm.

She stitched him up, too, and while her stitches might not be as neat as he mother’s, there weren’t any that pulled too tight. She finished bandaging him up and finally registered the odd look. “What?”

“Nothing.” Keith responded, picking up his bag. “Let’s go.”

She tucked the tracker and its little present under an Alliance Patrol hover, blacking out the cameras in the area before she dared, as close to the power cell as she could manage. She felt a smug sort of calm settle over her twenty minutes later when she heard it explode. 

Pidge Gunderson might not have much of a past or a future, but Katie Holt knew what she was doing. 

*~*~*~*~*

The first few months of a new routine were always the worst, Takashi had been told one day very early on in basic.

The first few days were rough, and then after that things settled, until a few months in and then there would be another slump.

He had no idea how long he had been here. That was intentional, he knew. He didn’t know any of the other prisoners – they called them volunteers, but he doubted any of them were – except a boy he had worked with early on in his career as an Alliance pilot. 

The young man had caught his eyes one of the first days there, and had waggled his eyebrows, wrinkled his nose, and made the best silly face he could manage with the muzzle that was a constant part of their attire concealing half of their face. 

Matt. Matt Holt. He clung onto the name with as much fierceness as he clung onto his own name, tallying things he had learned. 117-9875 was his ‘name’ for all intents and purposes here. He had etched that onto the inside of his eyeballs. 

Matt seemed to fade the longer they were there, no longer leaning into his jostling when they managed a few moments in an elevator, just accepting it and staring at him with flat eyes.

It wasn’t like the guards approved of the behavior, anyway, but the brief brush of warm human flesh was enough of a lure that he didn’t care about the punishment that followed. 

“Bring him.” The head researcher ordered. 

He lifted his head, trying to breathe through his mouth, staring at the woman intently. 

She didn’t look at him – she looked through him, absently studying him like Keith studied rodent tracks in the snow. 

Except somehow more alarming than Keith’s at times quick instincts. 

He had been taught early on that resisting would only net him more pain.

So he didn’t. He just watched her, and tried to keep watching her, even as his mind started to rip itself apart. 

*~*~*~*~*~  
Sub-director Ulaz was not a particularly approachable man. His skin was white, so white that it made him look like a carbon copy of a person, rather than an actual person. Albinism. There had been a little boy brought to her mother’s practice after his birth with it. Sub-director Ulaz was tall, too, long and lean without much meat on him.

He looked at her first, and then at Keith, intent, sharp eyes that weighed and judged and….decided something before he moved to his desk. “Kogane and Holt.”

“Keith.” Keith corrected, voice sharp.

“Very forward.” Sub-Director Ulaz remarked, touching the surface of the desk. “You know who I am.”

“I would hope so, after all the trouble I went through to find you.” Keith’s nostrils flared. “Where is he?”

“In the program, where you suspected he would be. So is your brother, Matthew, Ms. Holt. Both are considered rather high level successes-“

“We don’t need to know that.” She interrupted, twisting her hands together in front of her. 

The Sub-Director paused, lacing his hands together. “You do. If you wish to see your brother, Ms. Holt and Commander Shirogane free again, you must understand exactly what has been done to them. You must know it in your bones. You must become part of the process in order to save them from it at all.” 

“That wasn’t the deal.” Keith rasped. 

“I never made a deal with you, young Kogane, only agreed to meet with you and provide you with information.” Ulaz’s pale, nearly colorless eyes, flicked to her. “Now. Commander Shirogane first or Master Holt?”

She looked at Keith, swallowing hard against the urge to cry.

Keith looked at her, frowning for a moment, clear in his desires to hear about his partner-lover-whatever they were. 

“Start with Shiro.” She managed, finally.

“Please sit down. It has been over a year, much must be explained.” The sub-director indicated the chairs in front of the desk. 

She looked at Keith, who nodded slightly and motioned for her to sit down.

“To start with. You will both enter the program as technicians. Only you can get yourselves in. I trust that Ms. Holt’s skills will be sufficient?” Ulaz asked. 

“Yes.” Keith answered, not looking at her. “They will be.”

It warmed her a little, three months of working with Keith – even with all of his oddities – meant that she had a good idea of his skills, and he had a good picture of what she was capable of. Keith was a weapon, but he was a weapon with blunt angles when he wanted to be. He even laughed, sometimes, rarely. He leveled her, he focused her brain into an iron pathway. Their mission, and they had chosen to accept it. 

Her dad’s love of old Earth movies made her stomach clench. 

“Excellent. We must do our best not to draw attention. Director Haggar has quite the frightening temper. You will do those you love no good as fellow specimens.” 

“Right.” Keith said, staring straight ahead. “Right.”

“Now.” Ulaz looked at her for a moment, flat eyes giving the impression that he couldn’t see her at all. But she knew he was looking. “Let us begin.” 

*~*~*~*~*~*  
Nobody touched him. There were no accidental touches, just a constant drag on the chain around his throat. It bit, it rubbed, and it chafed against his skin. He couldn’t escape it the pressure of it. 

The list of words was something he kept up, naming the types of discomfort. They were trying to empty him, but if he clung to the words they couldn’t. He tried to guess the direction they were going, to keep slack in the chain, but often they would jerk him to make him off balance so that he had to scramble, hands bound behind him, to find his feet again – or else he would fall, and it would hurt. The worst we’re impact, bruising, abrasions.

Some of the techs were cruller than others. Some of the researchers were kinder.

He looked up when they stopped, caught the furtive glance around then before the researcher keyed the door and walked him inside 

Then the man dropped the chain, leaving it swaying to rest cool and heavy against his chest. Not so quickly that there was an impact or a sting, but softly enough that it settled. He relished in the brief, unleashed freedom, hummed a soft note of pleasure, and flexed his hands in the restraints because nothing was holding him in place.

“Here, give me your arm.” The researcher said, voice quiet, directed at the other people in the room. “You first. Don’t make contact just yet.”

“This will work?” a soft, familiar voice questioned.

“This is the same method we used to establish our authority over them. It works. Just enough that you don’t end up rejected.” The researcher responded. “Don’t be surprised if he doesn’t recognize you. They have done extensive conditioning.”

Keith caught his eye, slow smile creeping upwards on his lips. “I’m not worried.”

The researcher glanced back at him, blinked once, and sighed. “Very well then.” He took the needle out of Keith’s arm, and Keith stepped forward in a rush, arms going around his shoulders, rising up on tiptoes to press their foreheads together.

He breathed in, sucking in Keith's scent, the play of mental fingers against his mind that mimicked the press of physical fingers against the back of his neck.

“Shiro.” Keith breathed out, squeezing his eyes shut, tears boiling up at the corners. 

He had never hated the gag more than that moment, not being able to echo the name, to whisper his entireties and affections.

Keith laughed, soft and sweet. “I can hear you. Slow down.” The fingers were there, soothing and pushing deep into the knotted muscles of his shoulder. 

He rubbed his face against Keith’s, trying to avoid the ridges where the muzzle met his skin, messy with his purpose.

Keith made a noise in the back of his throat, nuzzling him in return, not at all bothered by the scrape of the metal and plastic.

When he pulled back, Keith’s lip was bloody. He whined softly, unhappy, wishing he could touch him, touch the injury.

“It’s fine. I don’t even care.” Keith’s voice was soft, intent. “It’s just a scrape.”  
He shook his head, leaning his forehead gingerly against Keith’s, closing his eyes.

“We need to complete the process with Ms. Holt.” 

He startled a bit, he had forgotten the researcher. Or why someone else might even be there when clearly all he needed was Keith.

Keith made a face, but stepped back, caressing his neck. “Right. Let’s do this right.”

“Do we need to do this? I mean, Keith will be there. Even if….well, even if he ends up needing that sort of backup? Wouldn’t it make sense for Keith to do it?”

Small. Was his first impression of Holt. She was tiny, giant glasses nearly eating her face, messy hair. Matt? 

Her brother. Keith supplied, mind clear answering his own. She is stronger than she looks. 

Which made him take another look at the girl, because Keith gave his respect out rarely. 

“Better to have a failsafe than need one and not have it.” The researcher told her, curt. “Kogane, step back so that she can touch.”

Keith’s hand left his neck, and he tried not to lean to follow it. 

The girl stepped closer, looking uneasy, nervous, maybe even a little bit scared. 

“Confidence.” The researcher ordered. “You will never be successful if you aren’t.” 

Holt frowned, her brow furrowing. This isn’t going to work. 

He glanced at Keith, who was watching the girl with his arms crossed. 

Keith shrugged at him, and it felt almost like the months had melted away. Well no, not if you think like that. 

Holt startled, looking at Keith first, then at the researcher. Then she stepped forward quickly, putting her arms around his waist and hugging him tightly. 

Which was probably one of the nicer things he had ever experienced.  
~*~*~*~*~

Hunk was singing in the kitchen, which was less bothersome than it would have been two years ago when she had first made her way on the Dazzler. 

She rolled over lazily, lifting Platt into his little nest. The mouse squeaked at her, clearly offended, but her wrist comm was blinking out a code. 

Her uncle was calling. 

She sat up slowly, activating the comm and rattling off her access code. 

“Anna.” Kolivan’s gave drifted over her face, a brief once over. His silver hair had been swept back from his face.

“Uncle.” She greeted. 

“I have something I need for you to do.” His voice was calm, but there was an urgency to it that made her sit up straighter. 

“Anything, Uncle. How are the cousins?” She kept her voice steady. If he was calling her, he had weighed the risk. He had analyzed it, he had considered it, and he had found it an acceptable risk. 

He flicked his eyes away. “The same. You know how the homestead is. But I have a package that should be arriving soon. I know you are in the area. Would you be willing to see it to me?”

She blinked, but nodded quickly. “Of course uncle. More supplies?”

“Indeed. Please be careful, the contents are fragile.” He met her eyes for just a moment, the odd purple sheen glinting. “I only trust my transports to you, Anna.” 

She nodded, clasping her hand to her shoulder in a faint salute. “Give my love to auntie.”

Antok hated being called auntie, but it worked for this. 

“Be safe.” Kolivan’s eyes narrowed for just a moment, clearly concerned. Coordinates flashed in the corner of the screen, and she saved them to her private, protected drive without thinking. 

“Always, Uncle.” She answered, and closed the call. 

What in the verse were they doing this time? 

“Lance!” She called, untangling herself from the bed and staggering out of her bunk.

*~*~*~*~*  
Pidge Gunderson had terrible luck. Or maybe Katie Holt had terrible luck, and no matter how well she had crafted this alias, she was stuck with it. 

The doctor was late, and someone must have tracked him because almost as soon as he stepped in the world with Matt tottering behind him, head down, and looking so defeated that she wanted to cry, there were sirens outside. 

The doctor looked annoyed, but not surprised. “We need to move to the next stage.”

“You betrayed us.” Keith’s voice was harsh, accusatory.

“Hardly.” The doctor responded, rolling his eyes. “They are valuable assets. Only a fool would not keep close track of them. That is why they need to be unconscious.”

Shirogane – Shiro, his name was Shiro, she had spent enough time with him to know that, to know him - stumbled a bit, cuffed hands pressing against the doorframe. 

Keith moved so fast she had trouble registering it as movement, and the doctor huffed at them. Guiltily, she paused, having been moving slower in that same direction to support Shiro. He had known he was going to fall before he tripped, and she was wearing the near disaster still. 

She wanted to move for Matt, but she had to keep the illusion of control. If she touched him she would break, if she let the foggy look in his eyes reach her she wouldn’t be able to do the next step. She missed the clarity some of their training had brought to his eyes, but it took so much time to reach him and coax him out. They were so close. So very very close. All of these months of suffering and planning were nearly over. “You’re sure this will throw off the tracking?”

“If they are unconscious, it will work.” The doctor assured her, taking Matt by the arm and pulling him forward. Ulaz touched the back of Matt’s mask, working at the catches carefully and disabling the alarms.

She watched him, frozen in place by the push of the desires. Shiro, Matt’s foggy presence – she swore she could almost feel Keith, a pulsing sort of sharpness that was almost lethal. 

Keith had an arm around Shirogane, and they had their faces pressed together, Keith’s mouth was moving, soft words that she could not hear.

She could feel Shiro though, the warmth he always exuded with Keith. 

Matt made a gasping, gagging noise, hands lifting to cup his own face. Beneath the muzzle the skin was raw, an open, oozing sore nearly through one cheek, and another blistered mark above his nose. 

“Easy.” Ulaz murmured, hand resting on Matt’s shoulder. 

Her brother blinked a few times, making another stilted, gasping-gagging noise as he swayed on his feet. 

She stepped closer, reaching for his elbow, trying to guide him into leaning on her instead of Ulaz. “Matt?” 

Matt blinked again, staring down at her, mouth working slowly, drool leaking out of the corner of it. “We need to take care of the cut.” She told Ulaz, trying to manage some sort of authority. 

“Later.” Ulaz dismissed, stepping towards Keith and Shiro. 

She rolled her eyes at him, tracing her hands up Matt’s arm, getting a feel for the mess of his mind. “I’m taking off the restraints.” 

Ulaz grunted at her. 

She unlocked the last of the wrist cuffs, Ulaz had uncoupled them before they entered the room, but now….now she could toss the hated technology at the wall with force.

Matt twitched a bit, head quarter turning to look at the noise. 

“Shhh.” She soothed, picking up a towel and dabbing at his face. He ducked his head to let her, still staring at her with foggy eyes. Some days were better than others, some days recognition might show, even if it was only a dim sort of glow that Matt kept locked away out of fear – for her, because he was the smartest idiot she’d ever met – that someone might overhear it, or see it, and use it. 

Keith had stepped back a bit from Shiro, arm around his waist, body tucked into his as Ulaz removed the mask. 

Shiro made the same choked, gagging noise that Matt had, head ducked down. There was a deep gash above his nose, deep enough that she was pretty sure his nasal cavity might be compromised. Keith had clearly noticed it as well, practically shouldering Ulaz out of the way to examine Shiro’s face.

“Keith.” Shiro managed, voice raspy and pained. But there. Present. 

“He’ll be alright?” She asked, again, glancing back at Keith. 

Keith had his hand pressed to Shiro’s cheek, absorbing the tears dripping down. Really, she thought that sometimes Shiro and Keith forgot that this wasn’t a romance flick. 

“They will both be fine – if we hurry.” Ulaz strode toward her.

She tensed a little, hand grasping at Matt’s arm until he bristled at the perceived threat. 

“Enough.” The Doctor snapped, and Matt slumped. “Undress him, if you must fill his head with your compulsions.”

She flinched a bit at the reprimand, but forced herself to project calm and reassurance until Matt started reflecting it. As far as clothes went, she just had to undo the ties at his shoulders, the gowns were pathetic. “I have better stuff, for when you wake up. Pants, one of your jackets. You’ll be warm again.”

Matt closed his eyes, which was a pretty clear sign that he was present and there and she ached to talk to him more. 

Ulaz took him by the shoulder and led him to the box. 

“I’ll see you soon!” She told him, and made every effort to project her confidence that this would work into her brother. She would. It would be just like a little nap, and then he would wake up and they could fix everything the Alliance had done to him. Everything. 

Matt sank into the box without complaint, curling up in a little ball. Ulaz activated the thing, and she felt his mind go away like a snuffed candle.

“Kogane.” Ulaz barked, sharp, firm. 

“I’ll be right there when you wake up.” Keith’s voice was soft, but firm. “It’ll feel like a nap. Just a little bit of cold, then sleep. Then you will be safe. I will make sure of it.”

It was so strange to hear softness from Keith. Keith was hard, sharp, sarcastic – not kind, tender. Except, maybe – maybe – that he was like her, burying every soft part of herself inside to save the person who mattered the most to him. 

He caught her eye, face a mask of pain. 

“Keith.” Shirogane’s voice was softer than she had thought it would be, still a little bit unsteady.

“Please, Shiro.” Keith’s voice shook on the name. 

Shirogane looked at her – then at the doctor, and then at the door, because of course he did. He had been trapped in this place the same as Matt and now they were asking him to do something else that must seem like another layer of horror. 

“Now.” The doctor barked. 

Shirogane dropped his head, pressing his forehead to Keith’s, and drew in a shuddering breath, the hand that wasn’t replaced with the gleaming prosthetic cradling his face. His lips moved, but he didn’t really seem to say anything.

She thought, maybe, for a moment, that he was going to refuse. She remembered seeing promos about the guy. He was built like a recruitment poster, still, even with the arm. She remembered the accident that had ended his career, a daring stunt that had saved thousands of lives. Surely even these past months of working with him, bound and helpless, hadn’t changed who he was at his core. 

She knew better, but she wouldn’t have blamed him if he had balked at the box and taken his chances with the forces outside. He slowly untangled himself from Keith, and stepped forward to the doctor. 

He didn’t need help to step down into the box.

She thought they might have managed to freeze Keith too.


	2. In the beginning

_“It is mine.” The tiny voice declared, luminous eyes defiant, hand extended for the damning knife._

_“It is mine.” He repeated, not caring that she screamed for him, not caring that she struggled to rise to save him. Maybe he could not hear her, maybe none of them heard her. Maybe she was gagged and silenced, completed torn apart. No longer what they sought, but the child who stood so brave and bold. The last spark of their rebellion._

_“It is mine.” The young man said, those eyes hard and cold as he sunk the knife into her stomach. “I have claimed it.”_

_  
She called his name into the fragments of her nightmares, turning this way and that to find him. **Keith. Keith! Keith!**_

_But her child gave her no answer, and all she found were the great golden eyes of her husband’s ship, as **Red** named and claimed them both._

**_Keith._ **

She woke in a twisted, tangled bunk, mouth open to her panting cries. Akira was gone, long since gone. They had been almost to port when she had gone to bed, he must have gone to assist Acxa. She slammed her head back into the pillows, dropping her hand over her face to muffle a frustrated scream.

 

Twenty damned years, and still she called for the lost child in the middle of the night as though he might someday answer. Why would he, when she had failed him? She had damned him. She had left her little boy behind.

 

She allowed herself one half muffled scream into her hand before she forced herself to rise, body heavy with the regrets the nightmares stirred within her.

 

  
She stared at herself in the mirror as she scraped at her hair, forcing the damp strands into some sort of order around her face, trying not to find her own eyes in the mirror.

 

Akira slid his arms around her, tucking his chin into her neck, stubble tickling her skin. “Good morning, Krolia.”

 

“Mhm. Good first watch. You need to shave.” She muttered, knowing he must know she was bothered, that the nightmares had come again.

 

He chuckled. “I thought my stubble looked roguishly handsome?”

 

“Someone lied to you.” She leaned her weight back into his shoulder, lifting an arm to drape around his neck.

 

“That someone was you when we were nineteen.” He teased, voice soft.

 

“What was I thinking?” She smiled at him in the mirror. “Prospects this morning?”

 

“Pickup, few transports. Got a shipment out of Beaumonde.” He traced his fingers over her stomach, chasing the swirls of her tattoos. “Not fish this time.”

 

“Hm. Cattle?” She settled her free hand over his.

 

“Naw. Hydroponics. Landon wanted a tank fir himself, so I’ve been eying the jobs comin’ out, made that part of our payment. Plus starters.”

 

“I swear if they flood my hold again…” She trailed off pointedly. “But it was nice of you to search for him.”

 

“Good to keep the best mechanic we’ve had on this boat happy. He’s a good kid.” Akira kissed her neck, arms tightening around her waist.

 

“Landing soon. If you leave Acxa to deal with the port authority there will be trouble.” She reminded him, mild. “Remember the last time.”

 

“Owen forgave us eventually.” He protested.

 

“Beaumonde doesn’t have a supervisor that plays poker with you whenever we make port.” She gave him a fond push.

 

He sighed. “I’ll take a raincheck, then, and finish this later.”

 

“We can resume negotiations later.” She promised, pulling on her shirt. “Go stop our daughter from launching another war.”

 

Akira grumbled at her, but she could hear him leaving the room behind.

 

It was small, limited, but theirs.

 

She had to make that enough for now.

 

 

*~*~*

Cat woke her, paws kneading softly at her chest until she drifted slowly into awareness. She had a sense of her own self sleeping, soft curls of pale hair sticking to her face.

 

Cat offered a humming “merp” when she sighed, stroking his fur. She had only ever seen Cat in the mirror, and the way other described him did not really help.

 

What was “black” and “orange” anyway? Had she ever known colors?

 

Cat suggested that he would soon be hungry, and a rather tempting, future fuzzy image of them eating in the mess together.

 

Where mother brushed her hair, and Landon and Zethrid tried to tease Cat with tidbits and the lure of other names.

 

Cat was Cat, not Kova or whatever else Landon called him.

 

But they persisted in trying to call him by that name, and introducing them to others as Kova and Narti.

 

To have no voice was sometimes frustrating, it became very difficult to correct anyone. Not everyone understood her whispers in their mind.

 

She wondered, sometimes, if she had always been able to whisper. Or if the salvaged ship she had been found on, the wreck that had killed everyone else, had somehow caused it.

 

Those memories were impossible, distant things. Things she didn’t understand.

 

Well. She understood one thing, really, and it was a color. The color blue, which had frightened and terrified her as much as it had called to her.

 

Cat could not see blue, or if Cat did, it didn’t look the way she remembered it.

 

Cat persisted with the image of breakfast.

 

She pushed him off her chest, finding her clothes by the feel of the fabric, pulling them on by memory.

 

Cat gave another “merp”, clearly offended. She offered the echo of Axca’s laughter in the hold as Landon tried to lure the frightened bird out of the netting.

 

Acxa had the best laughs, even if Zethrid laughed more often.

 

Cat was not appeased, and started to groom himself as she dressed herself. She got a confusing image of herself, tangled in her clothes, which wasn’t an image as things _were_ really, but an image of what Cat thought was a fitting punishment for her laughter.

 

Cat could be a rather particular beast on occasion, but remained the best gift Landon had ever offered her.

 

“Narti?” Mother’s voice was gentle, and Cat switched the image for one of mother, dressed and ready to go. “Sleep late?”

 

She nodded her head, reaching for mother’s hand with Cat’s guidance and giving it a small squeeze.

 

Mother picked her up, and lent a shoulder so that Cat could jump up as well. “No matter, pet. We’re making port today. So make sure you stay close to Acxa.”

 

She nodded again, accepting the rules. The same rules mother gave her every time they made port.

 

Mother was afraid of child snatchers, she rather thought that mother should be afraid for the child snatchers if they thought to snatch her.

 

Cat might be a particular beast, but his claws were sharp when he was roused.

 

*~*~*~*~

 

*~*~*~*  
  
“Stay close to Acxa.” She reminded Narti one last time, smoothing her hand through her little one’s pale silvery hair.

 

Kova mewled in response, settled casually across Narti’s shoulder.

 

Acxa shook her head, kissed her cheek, and flopped down on the box. “We’ll be _fine,_ mother. Landon is staying with us.”

 

She glanced at Landon, who was in the midst of taking some small device to little pieces. “You’re going to market later?”

 

“Mhm.” Landon replied, not looking up. “The bookseller has a package for me, if you happen to go that route.”

 

She shook her head. “Remind Zethrid, she and Ezor are going to the markets later. We are going to the tech center to make the final negotiations for our load. Find us a boarder, perhaps?”

 

She trusted Landon’s judgement on people, he had rarely been wrong, and at times his caution had saved them.

 

Narti had walked – barefoot as always – to stand in the dust at the bottom of the ramp, head tilted as she listened to the traffic surrounding them.

 

“We’ll look.” Acxa shook her head. “Mother, I’m not ten. I’m twenty.”

 

“Not for another week.” She touched Axca’s shoulder. “Call us.”

 

“Always.” Acxa touched her hand. “We’re safe on the ship, and I can fly us out of here if anything bothers us.”

 

She gave her daughter’s shoulder one last squeeze, and made her fingers uncurl, made her feet take those first few steps away. She fluffed Narti’s hair as she passed her, and saw the silent shaking that was Narti’s laughter.

 

It was always hard to leave them, and even though she knew Acxa was safe, that Narti and Landon were safe, it still buzzed beneath her skin.

 

The one she had lost – the one who had been stolen away – always haunted her.

Akira caught her hand as she joined him, giving it a small squeeze before they moved for the well-worn paths that led away from the space port.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
The spaceport was loud today, buzzing with activity and people, humming with life that wasn’t contained to just here.

 

Narti turned this way and that way, skittering around minds, smoothing out any that seemed to be seeking trouble. She always did that when they were in port, just because fighting made it harder to leave, and mother got tense when Alliance patrols responded to the disturbances.

 

What Narti didn’t know was that Serenity had a reputation of being a peace keeper, a good luck ship. It had earned more than its fair share of jobs on the basis of nothing really bad tending to go on around it.

 

Spacefarers were a suspicious lot, and rarely changed their minds once they had come to a consensus view.

 

There were less murders, less robberies, less cheating, and less trouble in general whenever the ship set down.

 

### “By any chance, little miss, are you and yours heading to Persephone this next quarter?” The voice behind her surprised her, and Kova hissed one her shoulders, conveying his own shock and confusion. Nobody had ever snuck up on her before. 

### She pushed out only to encounter a light resistance in the other mind, an unruffled sort of calm that gently redirected her thoughts. She stumbled, caught off guard, and the owner of the voice –presumably, she could discern no more than a general sort of good will and calm from that direction – caught her by the shoulders.

### “Narti!” Acxa was next to her in seconds, pulling her back away from the stranger.

### “Sorry, sorry. She took a bit of a tumble. I meant no harm. I saw that you were accepting borders. And I quite wondered if your path was taking you anywhere near to my next destination?”

### Kova gave her an image of a man dressed in the plain, unassuming black of a Shepard, but one with a strange glint to his eyes. One who was still blank in her mind?

### “You can leave.” Acxa said, flatly.

### “Wait, Acxa.” Landon’s voice was soothing, and his presence washed over her like a balm on a sting. He took her hand, rubbing it gently. “Where are you going, Shepard?”

### “Oh. Mighty kind of you to ask.” There was a sharpness, then, an awareness. Landon and this man knew each other.

### She turned her mind towards his, questioning, concerned.

### Landon responded with an image of himself – smaller, in a garden, being lifted in the arms of the Shepard.

### The image was full of laughter.

### She relaxed a bit, accepting the way Landon’s guard closed behind the image again, accepted the soothing weight of his hand while the Shepard – Cornelius – and Acxa hashed out the terms of the contract.

*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Predictably, everything went wrong the moment they split up.

 

Katie really wished she had planned for that, but the increased patrols and the fliers made it – well, every step of this had been difficult, so she couldn’t say it was _harder,_ but to be this close and have it all go completely wrong.

 

She scrubbed at her eyes, sitting with her back to the box, trying desperately not to cry. God. Keith and the other box should have been here hours ago, and she couldn’t stay. She couldn’t. Every moment she lingered doubled the risk of them being caught and Matt going back to that place.

 

She couldn’t wait, but it felt like a betrayal to stay. One box, one person. _Matt._ She told herself, it had to be her brother.

 

It could easily be the man that Keith had softened for, had become tender for.

 

But she had to think that it was Matt, because otherwise she wouldn’t be able to keep going. “Rover.”

 

The hovering drone beeped.

 

“Scout ahead, make sure we’re clear. Is the transport still out there?”

 

Rover darted away, through a small, cracked upper window.

 

She pressed her hand to the side of the crate, closing her eyes and trying to pull more strength up.

 

She was terrified. If they were caught, they were done. Even if they weren’t caught, her only hope was finding a port and a ship and getting off of this planet before they were caught.

 

If they were caught.

 

She swallowed back the lump, standing up when Rover came back, projecting the street outside for her.

 

“Alright. Get the transport started, back open, andlet’s load this up.” She picked up the kit, using the conversation with the little drone to firm her stride.

 

Rover beeped at her, then made the little concerned humming sound that she knew meant he – it – was worried about her.

 

“We’ve got to go. No time to waste.” She had to carry through.

 

*~*~*~*~

 

The cargo was right where Kolivan had said it would be – not that she distrusted her dear, dear uncle, but there were times he would simply give a location and they would find it already held by hostile forces. A large crate – of what, she still didn’t know – sitting on a hover sled with an active beacon that only they could detect? Well, for Kolivan it was almost a milk run.

 

She remembered that term, her aunt had said it. Back in her girlhood when the world outside had seemed…safe. Sane. And she an untouchable beneficiary.

“That’s it?” Lance sounded doubtful.

 

“The coordinates and the tracker check out.” Hunk sounded just as dubious. “I really hate it when he doesn’t give us much information.”

 

“Put us down nearby, Lance. We can check it out.” She ordered, leaning her weight against his chair.

 

Dazzler was just as ratty as any other transport, except she had more hidden corners than people guessed at.

 

“Alright, girl. Let’s make some money for Uncle.” Lance murmured to the ship, guiding her down for a graceful landing and running through his checks. “If we hang around here for long a patrol will pick us up. It’s basically a dump – and you know how Persephone is about dumping.”

 

It hadn’t been a dump when she was younger. When she had come to visit Trigel it had been a public library.

 

But that library, like so much else, was gone.

 

“We’ll be quick. Hunk, help me secure the cargo.” She pushed herself away, swaying with the clunk of the landing gear without breaking her stride.

 

The new council had rid the core worlds of so much brightness, she could only imagine her father’s horror.

 

But then, King Alfor had always encouraged his daughter to think of the people first.

 

So had King Zarkon, or so she had thought. But those bright days seemed longer than the ten she had spent entirely focused on just surviving. She picked up her staff as she stepped down from the ship, running a scan as she stepped closer to the crate.

 

“Just one crate, usually his errands are more trouble.” Hunk commented, knocking on the side of it.

 

“I know. That’s all the detail he gave me, though.” The scan beeped, and then started producing a slow and steady sort of hum.

 

Hunk looked at her, and then back at the ship. “There’s something alive in there, isn’t there?”

 

“Barely. Life signs are almost…non-existent. Hibernation?” She stepped closer, checking the crate over until she found the deactivation panel. “Hm. Well, this will make it easier to get on board.”

 

Hunk leaned around her, peering at the panel. “Maybe we shouldn’t. Did the old man say we needed to unfreeze whatever it is?”

 

“Well, no. But aren’t you curious?” She grinned at him. “He never lets us have any fun.”

 

Hunk groaned. “Anna.”

 

“Hunk.” She returned, deadpan, and activated the defrosting sequence. “If it’s something bad we’ll just refreeze it.”

  
“If we get in trouble with the old man, I’m blaming you.” Hunk muttered, leaning against the side.

 

She was about to say something in return when something launched itself at them. It hit her in the shoulder with enough force to knock her off her feet, but her armor protected her from the projectiles true force.

 

“I knew it.” Hunk growled, ducking down behind the grav-sled and upholstering his gun, ready to return fire.

 

She rolled to her feet, dazed more than hurt, scanning the area around them for any sign of their assailant. “Get the box on the ship.”

 

“Now you want to hurry. Is someone shooting at us?”

 

She picked up the thin black knife, and thinned her lips. “No. Throwing knives.”

 

“…who the hell uses throwing knives?” Hunk grumbled. “Did we walk on a film set?”

 

“They’re quieter than guns.” She whispered, flicking her gaze around. “A blade can’t run out of power.”

 

“Anna?” Hunk snapped. “Stay present!”

 

Her focus narrowed, folded in on itself, and then spread out again. She could feel it like a storm, welling up inside her mind and she spun just as their attacker struck again, knocking the blade out of the air.

 

The third time he came himself, sword clashing against the metal of her staff, and then again and again until the cacophony of noise filled her mind and spirit like a song.

 

He broke away – making for the crate – and she spun and caught him in his middle, sending him back towards the rubble he had appeared from.

 

He growled, rolling to his hands and knees like a wild thing, eyes catching the light and glowing – almost like her own.

 

_Experiments to mimic the natural abilities of the royal families._

 

Her blood went just a little cold. “Hunk. Get the crate on the ship now.”

 

“Anna?” He sounded worried, scared.

 

“Now.” She repeated, as the assassin uncurled himself and launched at him again.

 

_They’re not human, not really. Not anymore. They’re something else, something wild. Just like what…what he became._

Her eyes slid closed, and they clashed again, twisting and turning in the rubble, her wrists were aching, her bones protesting every impact, but she dare not back down even an inch.

 

“Anna! Shit, hey now, hey now you’re ok.” Hunk’s voice cut through her focus and the attacker danced back out of range with a noise that sounded….well, pained.

 

She risked looking at him, risked staring him down. He was looking at Hunk, but not with malice.

 

Hunk was cradling a young man, who was shivering and gaping around, trying and failing to keep himself covered.

 

The attacker took a step towards them.

 

“Stop.” She ordered him.

 

The attacker turned eyes on her, shifting anxiously on his feet, then returned his gaze to the shivering man on the ground.

 

She took a deep breath through her panting, trying to center herself, trying to scan for his thoughts – his intentions. But what she found was a whirl of chaos, panic and desperation and worry underneath a strong current of anger. “What do you want?”

 

“Who are you?” He snapped back, never taking his eyes off Hunk.

 

“My question first.” She tried to put a little growl into it.

 

For a moment, she was sure he wouldn’t answer, that he would hold his silence and instead hold his ground. Maybe they would fight again.

 

It was hard to know what the shapers made out of their victims.

 

“My name is Keith.” He exhaled through his nose. “That man is my dependent.”

 

“Dependent, not your target?” Hunk asked, rubbing his hands over the man’s shoulders.

 

The man was rocking now, eyes staring.

 

“Yes. I just smuggled him out of a research facility. If I wanted to kill him, I could have just blown it all up.” Keith’s voice was cool.

 

“Right. Ok. Creepy.” Hunk muttered under his breath.

 

“Now. Who are you?” Keith looked at her, eyes narrow, teeth slightly bared.

 

She really hoped she was imagining the enlarged incisors. “We were sent here to pick up the crate – him, I guess, but you weren’t mentioned.”

 

Keith snorted, and took a step forward. “Matt.”

 

‘Matt’ looked up, brow furrowing, confusion crossing his face.

 

Keith knelt down, just for a moment, touching the forehead of the shivering man and whispered something gentle, surprising after all of the growling.

 

‘Matt’s’ eyes slid closed, and his body slumped to the side.

 

“He’ll sleep, now. We need to get him on your ship.” Keith ordered.

 

Hunk caught her eye and tried to impart something frantic about letting the man who had just spent the last collection of minutes trying to kill her on _their_ ship, but she wasn’t sure what he wanted her to do about it. Keith had already eased his arms under Matt and lifted the man up.

 

Lance was going to kill them.


End file.
